Vernon Lee's "Amour Dure" - A Collaboratory Piece with rbadac
jimrockhill
by Jim Rockhill and rbadac
Love-- the word love-- bears a terrific burden. It is universally
acknowledged to be essential, yet no one can say with any certainty
what it is. The word is expected to embrace the gamut of meanings from
selfless devotion to selfish lust without qualifiers, and to absorb
endless praise, calumny, and speculation. It is a thing at which we are
unbelievably clumsy, and the only thing we do well.
We persist in our search for love, for the alternative is unthinkable.
The verdict has been in for millennia: we must have Love, whatever the
hell it is, or we cease to have any meaningful existence, and that of
course plainly will not do. Such blind faith is inexorable in
creation-- besides producing literally everything of any worth, it also
produces its share of monsters from sheer momentum. Anyone who has ever
been "in love" knows of what this momentum is capable, and how little
it has to do with anything realistic. It is a bicycle built for two
with no handlebars, at best; at worst, the Thing that shares one's seat
bears no resemblance to what the lover proclaims to love.
Like many of Vernon Lee's best tales, "Amour Dure" is filled with the
sights, sounds, scents, tactile sensations - only the sense of taste
has been excluded - and emotions of another time and place. It is this
very sensuousness that lends the tale its verisimilitude and makes the
intrusion of the ghost not only possible, but inevitable. According to
Peter Gunn, the novella "was planned as a novel of the Renaissance,
with the title MEDEA DA CARPI, the name of its heroine; but on her not
being able to place it with a publisher (Blackwood objected to the
mingling of fact and fiction), she pruned it down to its present
shape." (1) No less an authority than Henry James, often critical of
later work - a topic that deserves separate attention - wrote Vernon
Lee shortly after the tale s first appearance in HAUNTINGS (Heinemann,
1890), to praise "the bold, aggressive speculative fancy" of the book
and its evocation "of the air of Italian things." (2)
The tale begins in August 1885, narrated by an expatriate Pole become
German history professor, named Spiridion Trepka. He begins his diary
lamenting the contrast between how he imagined Italy based on its
history and its present debased state. (3) He equates even his own
profession with a form of "modern scientific vandalism," (4) dilating
on his predicament, thus -
"Dost thou imagine, thou miserable Spiridion, thou Pole grown into the
semblance of a German pedant, doctor of philosophy, professor even,
author of a prize essay on the despots of the fifteenth century, dost
thou imagine that thou, with thy ministerial letters and proof-sheets,
in thy black professorial coat-pocket, canst ever come in spirit into
the presence of the Past?" (5)
But as he travels toward Urbania from Rome amid scenes of great natural
beauty, it starts to become clear that the spirit of the past is so
powerful in the region, that like a solution saturated past the point
of stability, something must precipitate.
Inside Urbania itself, past and present merge in myriad bastard forms.
Spiridion describes the locals in terms of such past masters as
Signorelli or Raphael (6), and such subjects as not only the Madonna
and St. Elizabeth, but the Three Fates. Nevertheless he avoids
meaningful communication with them to protect his rather precious
illusions, and deliberately isolates himself from reality in doing so.
Beauty and the past are evident, but cheapened or obscured:
"At the corner of the street, opposite Francesco di Giorgio's beautiful
little portico, is a great blue and red advertisement, representing an
angel descending to crown Elias Howe, on account of his sewing
machines." (7)
and the arrogantly Classicist Spiridion is repelled by encroaching
modernity and the trivial concerns of Urbania's inhabitants. No one
speaks of anything outside politics, machines, the lottery and sexual
dalliance. Faith and superstition intermingle indiscriminately, as
witness the antique dealer's bizarre, elaborate recipe for winning the
lottery by the use of necromancy, through the intercession of San
Pasquale Baylon, unsuccessful primarily due to the scarcity of dead
man's fat and the difficulty of slapping the saint before he
disappears. (8) The locals deem petty affairs and flirtations the
height of romance, but Spiridion seeks more than this-
"When I came to Italy first, I looked out for romance; I sighed, like
Goethe in Rome, for a window to open and a wondrous creature to
appear.." (9)
It will be Spiridion who opens that window, both figuratively and
literally, allowing some wondrous creature to appear.
Once housed by the amiable, superstitious antique dealer and given
opportunity to peruse the documents detailing the history of the area,
Spiridion begins to realize that romance - in both its senses of ardent
emotional attachment and high adventure - were and are present in
Urbania. Even before coming to the region, he had become acquainted
through otherwise dry local histories with a certain woman, born in
1556 and slain in 1582, by name Medea, descendant and ascendant to a
number of elite bloodlines:
"...daughter of Galeozzo IV. Malatesta, Lord of Carpi, wife first of
Pierluigi Orsini, Duke of Stimigliano, and subsequently of Guidalfonso
II., Duke of Urbania, predecessor of the great Duke Robert II." (10)
Surrounded by the things and places that viewed her actions, felt her
touch, heard her voice and sometimes even retained her scent, Spiridion
becomes fascinated by this woman.
The histories are informative, after a fashion. The character of Medea
seems clear enough, though it appears to have been distorted by
chroniclers partial to her enemy, Duke Robert II, Duke of Urbania, and
local superstitions. One anonymous and, we can assume, impartial source
portrays her as "most lovely and of most cheerful and amiable manner."
(11) She is nonetheless utterly ruthless, destroying, either directly
or indirectly, every man outside her immediate family who has contact
with her, marrying ever upward on the social scale until she attains
the station of Duchess-Regent over Urbania. Her motto, worn on a
medallion that allows the narrator to identify her portraits, is"Amour
Dure, Dure Amour" - "Love that lasts, cruel love." Spiridion comments:
"The woman's history and character remind one of that of Bianca
Cappello, and at the same time of Lucrezia Borgia." (12)
Scouring the area, Spiridion locates three portraits of her, thereby
finding it a simple task to reconstruct for his increasingly fevered
imagination the conquering beauty of Medea:
"The type is that most admired by the late Renaissance, and, in some
measure, immortalized by Jean Goujon and the French. The face is a
perfect oval, the forehead somewhat over-round, with minute curls, like
a fleece, of bright auburn hair; the nose a trifle over-aquiline, and
the cheekbones a trifle too low; the eyes grey, large, prominent,
beneath exquisitely curved brows and lids just a little too tight at
the corners; the mouth also, brilliantly red and most delicately
designed, is a little too tight, the lips strained a little over the
teeth. Tight eyelids and tight lips give a strange air of refinement,
and at the same time, an air of mystery, a somewhat sinister
seductiveness; they seem to take, but not to give. The mouth with a
kind of childish pout, looks as if it could bite or suck like a leech.
The complexion is dazzlingly fair, the perfect transparent roset lily
of a red-haired beauty; the head, with hair elaborately curled and
plaited close to it, and adorned with pearls, sits like that of the
antique Arethusa on a long, supple swan-like neck." (13)
She is a coldly voluptuous, troubling figure, simultaneously enticing
and repellant, innocent and lethal. The locals fear her, relating
folktales of her flying about on her black he-goat and swooping down to
capture naughty youngsters. When Spiridion assists a group of children
building a snow-woman, and names their creation "Medea," the children
build a fire round it as if burning a witch.
And what of her nemesis in life and death, Robert II? Although his
historiographers attempt to portray him as an honorable, merciful, God-
fearing man, Lee subtly undermines this portrait, even before Spiridion
begins acting directly against him, by implying more than the
chroniclers are willing to convey. Cardinal Robert does not become
interested in the affairs of Medea da Carpi until she threatens his
claim to secular power by declaring her son the heir.
"(T)his investiture of the Duchy of Urbania on to a stranger and a
bastard was at the expense of the obvious rights of the Cardinal
Robert, Guidalfonso's younger brother." (14)
The word "obvious" is instructive. The sources Spiridion cites for his
information on Medea are Duke Robert's historiographer and an
18thcentury biography of the Duke. One is reminded of Sir Thomas More,
usually portrayed as the soul of integrity, making history out of
innuendo in his life of Richard III in order to lend legitimacy to his
Tudor employer's claim to the throne of England.
Once his brother is dead, Robert wastes little time flinging aside his
priest's garb and vows so that he can pursue the secular power he feels
is his due. He also has no qualms about seeking assistance that may be
harmful to his native land, going to other Italian city-states, the
Emperor and even the hated King of Spain, actual ruler of large
portions of Italy and controller of many of its ports at this time, to
plead his case.
The Pope duly dissolves the child's investiture, declaring Robert the
legitimate Duke, and Robert is assured the assistance of powerful
allies once he is "able to assert his rights by main force." (15) There
immediately follows a euphemism for Robert attacking and laying waste
to his own land:
"Little by little, one town after the other of the Duchy went over to
Robert, and Medea da Carpi found herself surrounded in the mountain
citadel of Urbania like a scorpion surrounded by flames." (16)
After gaining control of Urbania, the history goes on to say, "(h)is
accession was marked by moderation and clemency." Only a lover of Medea
who attempts to assassinate him is slain. Medea's son, "(t)he little
Bartolommeo was sent to Rome to the Orsinis; the Duchess, respectfully
confined to the left wing of the palace." (17) What kind of moderation
and clemency tears a child of only 8 or 9 years from his mother and
sends him to his enemies? We must remember that although named Orsini,
as the supposed child of her husband Pierluigi Orsini, the Orsinis
refuse to acknowledge him as such, declaring he is the issue of Medea's
abduction and rape by Giovanfrancesco Pico "to whom Medea had been
married by proxy, and whom, in defense, as she had said, of her honor,
she had assassinated." (18). We can only imagine what became of the
child Duke Robert treated with such clemency, but, again, it is just
this lack of the "obvious" that characterizes his actions.
He keeps Medea imprisoned for 3 years, moving her to a convent after an
attempt is made on his life, never quite finding the nerve in himself
or sufficient proof from others, even under torture, to warrant her
assassination. He will not visit her, going so far as to flee when she
enters a room, pusillanimously, if wisely, considering that he might
not be capable of honoring notions of chastity any more than the other
priestly vows he discarded. Again, mentioning his clemency in other
particulars, the 18th century biographer relates how, still lacking
proof of her complicity in the latest plot against his life, he has
Medea strangled at the convent by two women, infanticides whose
sentences he has commuted, forbidding her even a monk or priest for
confession. Coward, hypocrite, and superstitious wretch that Robert is,
he lives in fear of meeting Medea's unshriven soul, finally contriving
to anchor his own soul to the earth until the general Resurrection
through the device of a small silver idol, consecrated not by priests,
but astrologers, and hidden within an equestrian statue of himself
created by "Antonio Tassi, Gianbologna's pupil." (19)
As it transpires, he has ample reasons for his cowardice and
superstition. His dispensation of Medea is as necessary as it is
ultimately unsuccessful. The employment of strangulation, as opposed to
any other of the many ways of dealing out death available in this
bloodthirsty historical period, is interesting in its possible ethic.
It seems to exhibit a certain delicacy by doing less violence to the
bodily form than, say, a blade, a bolt, a stone, or other missile; it
is considerably less of an imposture than hanging, and not as severe as
the garotte; it is more forthright than poison, and avoids the
indignity of drowning; less ostentatious than burning at the stake,
more final than being buried alive. Duke Robert naturally would not
have wanted it to be a public spectacle; to have the assassination
carried out by women at once precludes the possibility of Medea
exerting her influence over any men performing the task, and also
serves to have her betrayed by her own sex, even murderesses who are
effectively forgiven one heinous crime on condition that they perform
another.
Like many descriptions of the struggle for power during the
Renaissance, it is a violent and sordid tale, but in the figure of
Medea, dead "just two hundred and ninety-seven years ago, December 1582
at the age of barely seven-and-twenty, and having in the course of her
short life, brought to a violent end five of her lovers" (20),
Spiridion finds at last the romance and contact with the past he has
sought so long. Now begins the slow, gradual process toward
consummation.
"I am wedded to history, to the Past, to women like Lucrezia Borgia,
Vittoria Accoramboni, or that Medea da Carpi . . . Few things strike me
so much as the degeneracy of Italian women. . . Where discover nowadays
(I confess she haunts me) another Medea da Carpi? Were it possible to
meet a woman of that extreme distinction of beauty, of that
terribleness of nature, even if only potential, I do believe I could
love her even to the Day of Judgment." (21)
At this point the reader must wonder: is this Love speaking? In other
passages Spiridion hastens to justify the evil of his beloved, saying
that her nature puts her above conventional notions of right and wrong,
especially in the framework of her violent and treacherous milieu; he
is as much as saying Medea has *carte blanche* to be as vicious as she
feels it necessary to be. Yet he adores her all the same, neither for
nor in spite of these qualities, but in concert with them. What
precisely does he love? It is less the considered affection of one
human for another (insofar as these matters are considered), and more
the awe of a worshiper for a terrible Goddess, a worshiper who seeks a
communion he cannot possibly survive. Though this devotion reflects the
same character as that of Medea's other lovers, it may not be Love at
all, but a kind of demonic possession.
The tale becomes not merely a ghost story with a historical background,
but a ghost story about history itself, about how the past is recreated
for the present. The process whereby the "spirit of the Past" is
gradually made manifest resembles this description, only slightly
abridged, of how the writer conveys meaning to the reader in Lee's
essay THE HANDLING OF WORDS:
"The intellectual movement . . . depends mainly upon the complexity of
different tenses with reference to one another, by which the Reader,
passing from present to future, from more remote to less remote past
... is forced at once to realize very definitely the exact import of
each . . . form and to connect them swiftly with one another, thus
establishing a kind of intellectual space . . . and a series of planes
of action, more central (i.e. present) or more back (i.e. past), and in
various positions of mutual dependence, along which the Reader's
attention shifts ... and thus grasps the exact meaning." (22)
An idea gains three dimensions via its progress through the fourth. The
implication will not be lost upon the reader of "Amour Dure." The Past
itself relies upon its enduring effect upon the Present, upon how it is
recorded, upon how it is remembered, and finally upon how it is
interpreted through these channels to create an idealized Memory.
History assumes this mantle; the love object too is seen in a light of
admiration often colored by what the lover desires, and the love
object's assertation of identity reinforms or reinforces this idealized
image.
Words become Meaning through their individual meanings relative in
Time; like separate portraits or multiple accounts, they are all
subject to the interpretive imagination of the audience, or the desire
of a lover, or perhaps the enduring effect/assertation of identity of a
Meaning which has a life of its own.
Spiridion lives and acts within the present, but becomes so obsessed
with the past that, like H.P. Lovecraft's Charles Dexter Ward, he
becomes increasingly able to interact with and be manipulated by it.
The narrative undergoes a gradual shift as senses and tenses supply
increasing evidence of Medea's presence. The landscape itself, the
chronicles - both explicitly and implicitly - the local legends and
superstitions, the portraits and now the letters he finds written in
Medea s own hand, tactile evidence of her past existence to which he
imagines the scent of her hair remains, all add to this shift from the
present into the past and back again. He is enraged when, in trying to
discuss his obsession, a Bavarian colleague dismisses what he tells him
about Medea as "the usual tales due to the mythopoeic tendency of the
Renaissance; that research would disprove the stories current about the
Borgias, &c; that, moreover, such a woman as (he) made out was
psychologically and physiologically impossible" (23). He knows what he
feels to be true, then fears for his own sanity, given suspicions of
insanity in his own family, but this episode is, alas, the last burst
of true sanity we are to receive from Spiridion.
Shortly thereafter, in a scene that blurs one image into another and
hints at the uneasy distinction between flesh and spirit, Medea makes
her first doubtful, evanescent appearance in a mirror before which lies
a hitherto undiscovered portrait -
"Behind my own image stood another, a figure close to my shoulder, a
face close to mine; and that figure, that face, hers! Medea da
Carpi's! I turned sharp round, as white, I think, as the ghost I
expected to see." (24)
Temporarily disconcerted by this appearance and his reaction to it,
Spiridion senses danger and accepts an invitation to leave his
spiritually oppressive surroundings and visit a villa on the coast. His
perceptions, however, remain little changed, for he describes the
process of pressing oil from olives as if witnessing a scene from the
Inquisition or one of the dungeons of Piranesi. The ordeal of the
press, indeed, was reserved for accused persons who refused to plead
one way or the other; Spiridion in a subconscious sense is demanding
answers to the mystery of Medea which consumes his life, and these are
about to be granted him.
Soon the undemonstrative, melancholy Spiridion is composing doggerel
about Medea to be sung to the prevalent street tune. His landlady tells
him that his singing has attracted an admirer, and, in a reversal of
the image from Goethe, Spiridion opens the window to see Medea looking
up at him from below, as if his song had been an invocation.
He now begins to receive letters from Medea, no longer artifacts of a
past life but evidence of present existence. In these letters she
expresses a wish to meet him at the Church of San Giovanni Decollato.
It seems odd to associate her presence with a church, but when he is on
the verge of abandoning the venture as a hoax, he notes light and music
within and sees Medea, standing apart from a throng in antique dress
who part like air as he tries to follow her. The church seems just as
deserted as he left as before he had entered, and he discovers that it
had been abandoned for more years than anyone can remember. The Church
of St. John the Decapitated, with its painting of Salome dancing
lasciviously on the altar, turns out to have been a delightfully grim
and profanely appropriate place to have met his femme fatale, for it is
here that he loses his own head for good and all.
Two nights later, he meets her again; this time, though still not able
to touch Medea directly, he can see her clearly, hear the rustle of her
skirts, smell the scent of her hair, and feel the motion of the curtain
she has agitated with her touch. Also, when he tries to follow her, he
comes into contact with the clayey flesh of the throng within the
church. The rose she leaves behind for him to shower with kisses turns
brittle as if pressed within a book for centuries. Had she been present
in his time or had he been present in hers?
The next letter he receives instructs him to open the equestrian statue
of Duke Robert II to destroy the effigy that protects him from Medea.
He has long realized that
"no man must survive long who conceives himself to have a right over
her; it is a kind of sacrilege.. This is the meaning of her device
-'Amour Dure - Dure Amour.' The love of Medea da Carpi cannot fade, but
the lover can die; it is a constant and a cruel love." (25)
But he accepts this with joy."So it is true! I was reserved for
something wonderful in this world."(26)Planning his task, he is
reminded of how, as a child, he eagerly looked forward to what awaited
him beneath the tree on Christmas morning. Medea has become for him
everything he ever wished for: she is not only a beautiful woman, but
an incarnation of the Past.
"Those pedants say that the dead are dead, the past is past. For them,
yes; but why for me?... Why should there not be ghosts to such as can
see them? Why should she not return to the earth, if she knows that it
contains a man who thinks of, desires, only her?" (27)
On his way to the statue on Christmas Eve, he is momentarily swayed
toward the protection of the church, but something restrains him, and
he continues on his way. Then, one after another, Medea's lovers emerge
to hinder him in all their piteousness, but to no avail. The stabbed
Pico follows him and cautions him not to go to the Square; the tortured
Frangipani displays his face streaming with blood and importunes him
not to obey Medea's command; the flayed and quartered Ordelaffi, his
face still bound up in Medea's kerchief which she threw to him before
he died, lays an ice-cold hand upon him and demands that he relinquish
his claim to Medea. All are rebuffed by Spiridion, who is too far gone
to heed these warnings from beyond the grave. He hastens to his task,
saws open the statue of Duke Robert, finds the spirit-reliquary within,
and hacks it to pieces, thereby putting Medea within reach of the soul
of her hated enemy.
A step on the stair after the accomplishment of his deed signals
theappearance of Medea bringing Spiridion full, fatal consummation. He
has at last "come in spirit into the presence of the Past," being now
one with history and the walking dead who follow in Medea's wake.
Victorian Women Writers Project text of Vernon Lee's HAUNTINGS
http://www.indiana.edu/~letrs/vwwp/lee/hauntings.html
END NOTES
(1) Peter Gunn VERNON LEE (Oxford, 1964), p. 129.
(2) Robert L. Gale A HENRY JAMES ENCYCLOPEDIA (Greenwood Press, 1989),
pp. 491-2.
(3) Compare Henry Fern's similar disillusionment and ultimate fate at
the hands of a mysterious woman embodying his dreams in Robert Aickman s
"Never Visit Venice".
(4) Vernon Lee HAUNTINGS (Heinemann, 1890. Reprinted by Books for
Libraries, 1971), p.3.
(5) Op. cit., p.4.
(6) Op. cit. p.6.
Luca Signorelli (c. 1450-1523), pupil of Piero della Francesa and known
equally for his paintings and frescoes on religious subjects.
"http://gallery.euroweb.hu/html/s/signorel/index.html"
Raphael (1483-1520), also rendered Raffaello Sanzio, one of the most
celebrated painters of the Italian Renaissance.
"http://gallery.euroweb.hu/html/r/raphael/index.html"
(7) Op. cit. p.6
Francesco di Giorgio Martini (1439-1502)was a Sienese artist,
sculptor, architect, engineer and author of the TREATISE ON CIVIL AND
MILITARY ARCHITECTURE. Here is a selection of his work including, in
this
context, a view of the Palazzo della Signoria at Jesi -
"http://www.artonline.it/edicola/artdos2/077/opere077.html"
(8) Op. cit., p. 8
San Pasquale Baylon (1540-1592). Franciscan monk and former shepherd who
brought with him from Spain to Turin a "miraculous" recipe that restored
vigor to languid husbands. Popular among shepherds and considered
"Saint Protector of Cooks".
(9) Op. cit., p. 21.
(10) Op. cit., p.8.
(11) Op. cit. p. 9.
(12) Op. cit., p.9.
Lucrezia Borgia (1480-1519), illegitimate daughter of Cardinal Rodrigo
Borgia, later Pope Alexander VI, and sister of Cesare Borgia. She is,
perhaps unjustly, portrayed as the quintessential femme fatale after
Salome, though she seems not to have been intelligent enough to have
been much more than a pawn in the hands of her father and brother. One
contemporary commented that "her whole being exudes good humor and
gaiety." (c.f. the similar description of Medea da Carpi above). Among
scores of web-sites devoted to her, the Crime Library's, in part of a
series of articles devoted to the Borgia family is a solidly factual
account of her life with minimal attention to the worst of the rumors
-"http://www.crimelibrary.com/borgia/borgialucrezia.htm" Another site,
though it could benefit from some proof-reading and verification of
dates, goes into more detail about those fascinating rumors -
"http://www.dragonrest.net/histories/lucrezia.html". Pinturicchio's (c.
1454-1513) "Disputation of St. Catherine of Siena," a portrait
of Pope Alexander s extended family, portrays Lucrezia kneeling before
the throne. Although included in E.R. Chamberlin's THE BAD POPES (Dorset
Press, 1986), the full painting is not currently available on the
internet. Lucrezia's portion of the painting is reproduced at a rather
nutty site entitled "Lucrezia Borgia on Earth and in Hell," which offers
some striking images:
"http://www.geocities.com/TimesSquare/Corner/9726/".
Beware, however, that the portraits of Lucrezia offered here are not
attributed and at least one of them, Sandro Botticelli's (c. 1444-1510)
painting "Venus and Mars," is commonly assigned the date 1483, when
Lucrezia would have been a mere 3 years old.
Bianca Cappello (1548-1587), also rendered as Capello, is another woman
renowned for her beauty and machinations. Unlike Lucrezia, however,
there seems to be no question of Bianca being a mere tool of anyone
else. She eloped with one Florentine nobleman only to become the
mistress of another, Franceso I de Medici. Her husband turning up
conveniently dead and finding herself without hope of legitimizing her
new now public affair with Francesco, she tricked her lover into
marrying her by presenting him with another woman's child as their own.
Nine years later, earning the enmity of the Medici family, she died
within a day of Francesco, supposedly of malaria. She is the central
character in Thomas Middleton's (1580-1627) tragedy WOMEN BEWARE WOMEN.
Here is one of her portraits by Alessandro Allori (1535-1607) -
"http://www.uffizi.firenze.it/Dipinti/biancacap18.html"
(13) Vernon Lee HAUNTINGS (Heinemann, 1890. Reprinted by Books for
Libraries, 1971), p. 17.
Jean Goujon (c. 1510- c. 1656), French sculptor famed equally for his
three-dimensional work and his bas reliefs. Note particularly the
"Nymphs" and "Diana and the Stag" at
"http://gallery.euroweb.hu/html/g/goujon/index.html" The latter is
commonly
held to
represent Diane de Poitiers (1499-1566), another famous beauty of the
Renaissance, mistress of Henry II. of France. She makes an appearance
not unlike Medea da Carpi's in D. K. Broster's tale 禅he Pestering". For
an undisputed portrait of her see
"http://keptar.demasz.hu/arthp/html/c/clouet/francois/diane.htm"
Arethusa - A nymph transformed into an underground stream by the goddess
Diana to prevent her capture by the river god Alpheus.
*Actually, the portrait that reminds me most of Lee s description is
Leonardo da Vinci s (1452-1519) of "Ginevra de Benci" -
"http://gallery.euroweb.hu/html/l/leonardo/painting/portrait/ginevra.htm
l"
(14) Op. cit.,p. 11.
(15) Op. cit., p. 12.
Writing of the Papal States during the this period, Will and Ariel
Durant write, "The old aristocratic clans - Orsinis, Colonna, Savelli,
Gaetani, Chigi - had declined in income and power, though not in claims
and pride." (THE AGE OF REASON BEGINS. Simon and Schuster, 1961. P. 228)
The pope at this time, Gregory XIII, though not one of the popes
"glorified" in E.R. Chamberlin's fascinating book THE BAD POPES, and not
the former Grand Inquisitor and zealous persecutor of heretics his
predecessor Pius V had been, had foibles of his own. He continued Pius
V's
campaign against Elizabeth I of England and celebrated a Mass of
Thanksgiving for the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre of the Huguenots in
1572. More relevant to this tale, he was also a diligent and ruthless
pursuer of rents and forfeitures due the church. This was so resented
that certain noblemen, among whom was Roberto Malatesta, a presumed
relative of the fictional "Medea, daughter of Galeozzo IV. Malatesta,
Lord of Carpi," retaliated by hiring armies of ruffians to protect their
lands and to disrupt the church s collection of monies. He died in 1585,
with the church in disarray and nearly bankrupt, three years after
Medea.
(16) Vernon Lee HAUNTINGS (Heinemann, 1890. Reprinted by Books for
Libraries, 1971), pp. 12-13.
(17) Op. cit., p. 13.
(18) Op. cit., p. 11.
(19) Op. cit., p. 19.
Gianbologna (1529-1608), Mannerist sculptor who, though originally
Flemish, was the most celebrated Italian sculptor between Michelangelo
(1475-1564) and Bernini (1598-1680). His name is usually rendered
Giambologna, but other variants include Giovanni di Bologna and Jean de
Bologne. His sculptures are show-cased at
"http://www.ocaiw.com/giamb.htm" ,
but note in the context of this tale, his equestrian statue of Cosimo
I. de
Medici -
"http://www.meqa.it/ita/gui/pers/cospri.htm"
(20) Vernon Lee HAUNTINGS (Heinemann, 1890. Reprinted by Books for
Libraries, 1971), p. 16.
(21) Op. cit., pp. 21-22.
Vittoria Accoramboni (1557-1585) is an archetypical figure in
Jacobean drama, almost equal parts villainess and victim, thanks to
John Webster's (c. 1580- c. 1635) portrayal of "the famous Venetian
courtesan" in his tragedy THE WHITE DEVIL, OR VITTORIA COROMBONA. A
woman of great beauty and accomplishments, Vittoria was married to the
nephew of the man believed to be the next pope in order to improve the
station of her family. Not satisfied with this embroilment alone,
however, her brother returned the favor his new brother-in-law had done
him in securing his appointment at court by borrowing a page from
Cesare
Borgia and murdering him, thus procuring his sister for an even more
powerful nobleman, who had, incidentally, already murdered his first
wife.
The sequellae to this marriage - annulment of the marriage by one pope,
imprisonment, remarriage, flight from the next pope, betrayal, murder
and a
spectacular trial - are even more dramatic than the decades of staged
blood-letting they inspired. Both Ludwig Tieck (1773-1853) and Marie
Henry
Beyle, a.k.a. Stendahl (1783-1842) also wrote versions of this story.
Unfortunately, no contemporary portrait of Vittoria seems to be
available.
(22) Vernon Lee THE HANDLING OF WORDS (John Lane, the Bodley Head, Ltd.,
1923), p. 235.
(23) Op. cit., p. 30.
(24) Op. cit., p. 32.
(25) Op. cit., p. 25.
(26) Op. cit., p. 50.
(27) Op. cit., p. 46-47.
Jim & rbadac
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rba...@hotmail.com
Sent via Deja.com
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jimrockhill
jimrockhill <jimro...@my-deja.com> wrote:
> Cruel Love, Cruel Death: Vernon Lee's "Amour Dure"
> by Jim Rockhill and rbadac
>
Jim
(Looking for a job at Neologisms-R-Us)
--
jimro...@my-deja.SPAMENOSPAM.com
rba...@hotmail.com
> Cruel Love, Cruel Death: Vernon Lee's "Amour Dure"
> by Jim Rockhill and rbadac
Woo hoo!!! Nine segments!!!
I told you we should have used a smaller font, Jim.
rbadac, paid by the word-- the same rate for twenty years running
Eveleen McAuley
jimrockhill <jimro...@my-deja.com> wrote in message
news:916der$bkf$1...@nnrp1.deja.com...
> Cruel Love, Cruel Death: Vernon Lee's "Amour Dure"
> by Jim Rockhill and rbadac
Congratulations to you both on a really interesting commentary. I have just
two questions:
Was the fictional city of Urbania intended to be based on the real city of
Urbino? I can remember visiting Urbino as a student and thinking that Lee's
ghosts would really fit in.
And if Vernon Lee only died in 1935, isn't her work still in copyright? I'm
a little surprised to see it available on the web.
Eveleen McAuley
jimrockhill
"Eveleen McAuley" <emca...@esatclear.ie> wrote:
>
> jimrockhill <jimro...@my-deja.com> wrote in message
> news:916der$bkf$1...@nnrp1.deja.com...
> > Cruel Love, Cruel Death: Vernon Lee's "Amour Dure"
> > by Jim Rockhill and rbadac
>
> Congratulations to you both on a really interesting commentary.
Thank you, Eveleen.
> I have just two questions:
>
> Was the fictional city of Urbania intended to be based on the real
> city of Urbino? I can remember visiting Urbino as a student and
> thinking that Lee's ghosts would really fit in.
I took it to be a smaller town situated in that same region. There
actually is a city named Urbania just southwest of Urbino along the
river. It had been once been named Casteldurante.
>
> And if Vernon Lee only died in 1935, isn't her work still in
> copyright? I'm a little surprised to see it available on the web.
Chris Roden, whose Ash-Tree Press will be publishing a volume of Lee's
complete supernatural fiction, might be able to answer your question
about Lee's estate/copyrights.
Jim
>
> Eveleen McAuley
>
>
--
jimro...@my-deja.SPAMENOSPAM.com
Eveleen McAuley
jimrockhill <jimro...@my-deja.com> wrote
> "Eveleen McAuley" <emca...@esatclear.ie> wrote:
> > Was the fictional city of Urbania intended to be based on the real
> > city of Urbino? I can remember visiting Urbino as a student and
> > thinking that Lee's ghosts would really fit in.
>
> I took it to be a smaller town situated in that same region. There
> actually is a city named Urbania just southwest of Urbino along the
> river. It had been once been named Casteldurante.
> >
Perhaps I was influenced by the fact that Lee's Urbania had its own duke - I
know that Renaissance Italian states were small, but I didn't think they
were *that* small!
Eveleen McAuley